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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554032">me, you and the memories we never needed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/5timesforreal/pseuds/5timesforreal'>5timesforreal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drunken Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting Together, Haikyuu - Freeform, Happy Ending, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, MSBY Black Jackals - Freeform, Marriage, Memories, Nationals, No Angst, SakuAtsu, Timeskip, falling together, highschool, honeymoon (forever), miya atsumu - Freeform, recollections, sakuatsu fluff week, sakusa kiyoomi - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:48:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/5timesforreal/pseuds/5timesforreal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Their eyes meet for the first time. All consuming obsidian that seems to suck the heat from the atmosphere around them clash with honey brown, sickly sweet with a pull that just draws someone in until it’s too late. One pair of eyes narrow, daring the other to give up, to succumb. The other stares back, unforgiving and powerful, with no intention to back down. It keeps going like this until they both finally decide to look away, one ashamed and the other calm yet bothered.</p><p> It was hate at first sight.</p><p>(Or, recollections of their relationship from the bitter beginning to the well-deserved present)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>me, you and the memories we never needed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I just created a new <a href="https://twitter.com/5timesforreal">twitter</a> !!</p><p>Updates, new releases, teasers, and more will appear there!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>They’re 17 year old high school students from Itachiyama Institute and Inarizaki High. They met for the first time at the All Japan Youth Training Camp, though they knew each other’s playing styles inside and out. Their eyes meet for the first time. All consuming obsidian that seems to suck the heat from the atmosphere around them clash with honey brown, sickly sweet with a pull that just draws someone in until it’s too late. One pair of eyes narrow, daring the other to give up, to succumb. The other stares back, unforgiving and powerful, with no intention to back down. It keeps going like this until they both finally decide to look away, one ashamed and the other calm yet bothered.</p><p> </p><p> It was hate at first sight.</p><p>
  
</p><p>They’re 17 years old and at the Spring Nationals. Miya Atsumu, with a charming demeanor and a sweet yet toxic personality that pulls and pushes every person that could come near him. Sakusa Kiyoomi, with his flexible wrists, exceptional playing ability, and a personality defined by his indifference. Both so similar yet so different. Atsumu walks off the court, head held high and tears in his eyes, and feels a presence near him so intense it makes his skin crawl. He looks to his right and there’s Sakusa, standing tall and calculated. A white mask covers half his face but his eyes bore into Atsumu, like a black hole. A shiver rakes through Atsumu’s body from head to toes but he doesn’t look away. Honey brown fights with onyx for dominance, for control. Sakusa’s eyes narrow, then soften, turning the hard onyx into a smooth deep brown. Atsumu’s own eyes widen, surprised, as Sakusa slightly nods his head at him. It was barely a nod, almost like a small shake of the head. Atsumu freezes, a nervous gulp stuck in his throat before doing the same. Sakusa looks away first, face completely wiped of any expression. The soft brown turns to hard onyx again. Atsumu takes his eyes off of Sakusa and walks away, down the stairs and to the changerooms to face the losing atmosphere of his team. He doesn’t feel like a loser anymore though.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Atsumu dreamt of soft brown eyes and white masks that night.</p><p>
  
</p><p>They’re 18 years old and both at their last Spring Nationals. Sakusa holds his head high, higher than he ever has before and manages a small smile of victory. They won nationals, and the only thing that could be heard were the cheers of Itachiyama’s team and the sounds of complete and utter victory within the huge stadium. Sakusa revels in the victory, drinking in the feeling of standing superior and a winner in center court. His smile widens, revealing pearly whites and he laughs. A sound so fresh, so deep and perfect, like a fresh, cold drink on a hot summer day. A laugh from Sakusa was rare, oh so rare. He laughs and smiles like there’s no tomorrow. He wouldn’t care if there was no tomorrow. He could die happy right now.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Atsumu stares at him from across the net and listens to the beautiful sound while thinking about how pretty Sakusa looks when his eyes crinkle at the corners and joyful forehead lines overlap his two moles.</p><p>
  
</p><p>They’re 22 years old and Atsumu bounces a ball on the floor in the empty gym before catching it with both hands. He twirls it a couple of times in between his digits and breathes slowly. He takes 4 steps and unleashes all of his power as he runs and jumps, slamming his hand viciously into the ball. The ball flies and spins, before landing with a smack onto a pair of pale, ready arms. Sakusa had entered the gym a couple moments before to practice some self-passing drills. As he observed his surroundings, he froze at the sight of Atsumu’s concentrated face, the steady bounce in his step and the bangs that fell across his eyes. Something inside him snapped enough for him to ditch his equipment and rush across the room to receive a ball that only he could ever touch. The surprised yet confused look on Atsumu’s face only brought more satisfaction to Sakusa, and he allowed himself to enjoy the moment a little bit. Before long, Atsumu tore his eyes away from Sakusa, refusing to give in to the moment. He grabbed a second ball and repeated his ritual, bouncing the ball and twirling it between his fingers. He positioned himself for another serve and gave Sakusa a knowing look, one eyebrow raised and his signature smirk, small yet present on his face. Sakusa shows no emotion, only answering by getting low and spreading his arms, a simple serve receive position. Atsumu runs, jumps, and slams the ball with determination to throw Sakusa off his feet. It doesn’t work. </p><p>
  
</p><p>They do this again and again, until sweat pours from their faces and the only sound is their panting breaths trying to catch up to one another. </p><p>
  
</p><p>They’re 22 years old and at a club filled with their teammates and random strangers, all dancing to a throbbing beat that bounces around Atsumu’s head in a sporadic pattern, no rhythm whatsoever. He laughs loudly, forgetting immediately why he was laughing, and feels himself falling over. He tries his best to stop himself but his vision swims and his muscles feel sluggish. His upper body falls against the booth chair and he chuckles aimlessly. His mood immediately switches and he pouts, wondering why his arms won’t help him up. He brings his hands to his temples and wills his vision to slow down and stop. Atsumu feels the arm wrap around his waist to help him up before he actually realizes it. He feels the snug grip of the arm around his waist get tighter to hold him up straight against a long frame. He feels the body heat radiating off of Sakusa beside him and he smells the familiar mint and chamomile scent off his sweet skin. Atsumu jerks suddenly, realizing Sakusa, the Sakusa who would avoid every high five and any crowd, was purposefully holding him close to his side. He raises his head slowly upwards and stills his vision as much as he could to focus on the face of the culprit in front of him. Once everythings a bit steadier and he doesn’t see triples that much anymore, he finds those pure black eyes staring at him, searching his face for any sign of discomfort or hurt. The eyes belonging to Sakusa soften, like the colour of the sea changes when sunlight reflects off of it at just the right angle.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Atsumu melts and stares back, hoping Kiyoomi could see the confession in his eyes.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Kiyoomi sees the confession, he sees it as clear as day and he accepts it in its entirety.</p><p>
  
</p><p>They’re 23 years old and stumbling back into Kiyoomi’s apartment after another night out, stolen kisses and small giggles interrupting each drunken step until they reach the bed. They fall against the bed, one on top of the other, and never stop drinking each other in. Kisses turn into bites and giggles turn into moans, each sound and action hungrier than the last. They continue until they’re impatient, keening and moving until clothes start coming off and they’re finally together, skin to skin, heart to heart. Drunk off each other’s everything, Kiyoomi initiates the first movement, the first thrust, the first part to creating a truly unforgettable night. They continue until both are torn at the edges, unraveled, hair soaked and sticking to foreheads and marks up and down their bodies as if to show who belonged to who. Atsumu moans one last time and collapses on top of Kiyoomi, completely spent and exhausted. All that is heard in the otherwise silent room is their recovering breaths and beating hearts, both thumping at the same pace. Kiyoomi threads his long fingers through Atsumu’s hair in a tender massage. He places a soft, lingering kiss on the crown of Atsumu’s yellow locks and Atsumu sighs softly, burrowing himself into Kiyoomi’s chest. Eventually, Atsumu stills and his breaths even out, a sure sign of satisfying sleep. Kiyoomi’s heartstrings clench and he continues to stroke Atsumu’s hair, sometimes stopping to run a finger down his cheek in a barely there way. He mouths three words, hoping the universe would understand and hoping Atsumu would hear them soon.</p><p>
  
</p><p><em> I love you </em>.</p><p>
  
</p><p>They’re 25 years old and sitting atop a hill overlooking all of Osaka. The sun sets behind the buildings in the distance, the soft breeze blows with a hint of cherry blossoms, and the curious song of the birds in the trees and the air sets the mood. Atsumu looks down at their intertwined fingers, noticing the small ridges in Kiyoomi’s hands, ridges that made his hand fit Atsumu’s perfectly. He smiles to himself, happy, and looks up to see his favourite pair of the most ethereal eyes he’s ever seen already staring at him. The hard onyx of Kiyoomi’s eyes were barely visible anymore, they were a deep brown with a hint of hazel around the pupil. But beneath the depths, they held more emotions than Atsumu could ever imagine. They held everything Kiyoomi didn’t say. They were the windows to Kiyoomi’s soul. Today, the only emotion Atsumu saw swimming in those irises was love and adoration. His breath hitched, eyes widening at the intensity of emotion in his eyes. Kiyoomi gave him a soft yet endearing smile and turned back towards the setting sun. The pink and yellow hues bounced off his curls and accentuated his jawline and cheekbones. It made him look like an otherworldly being, too angelic and perfect for this mortal world.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Kiyoomi’s mouth opens and his voice covers these words in honey so thick and sweet that Atsumu has to take a second to process the words just exchanged.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em> Let’s get married. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Atsumu says yes, of course. But not before tearing up and throwing his arms around Kiyoomi’s neck.</p><p>
  
</p><p>They’re 26 years old and standing at the raised altar, tears and unconditional love shining in their eyes as their pastor recites traditional marriage vows and conditions. Their joined hands dangle between them in a vice grip, slender and pale fingers encase long calloused ones in a silent vow to never let go. The sounds of hushed sobbing and sniffles comes from not only their teammates in the front row, but also from the man across Kiyoomi himself. Atsumu sniffles quietly, a soft smile on his face as he stares at the only person he wants to look at like this for the rest of his life. A few traitor tears escape his eyes and run down his face, stopping at the sweet smile he still gives to Kiyoomi. The fairy lights around the altar and the room reflect off his face, and Kiyoomi takes a mental screenshot. He wants to remember this moment forever, he wants to remember how the lights danced on Atsumu’s face, how his eyes held a love specifically for Kiyoomi, and how that smile, oh that smile, ignited a familiar feeling between them. Kiyoomi melted at the sight and smiled quietly as the pastor finished his speech and presented the rings to both men. Their hands unraveled themselves reluctantly so they both could grab their respective rings. Kiyoomi found himself missing the feeling of Atsumu’s hands entwined with his own. Luckily, the feeling didn’t last because Atsumu grabbed Kiyoomi’s left hand and held it softly, one gold ring already poised above it. Kiyoomi’s heart started beating faster as Atsumu carefully put the ring on his ring finger, his fingers lingering in the spot where the ring sat comfortably. A tingle sizzled where their digits made contact and Kiyoomi shivered happily before grabbing his own matching ring and lifting Atsumu’s left hand slightly. Atsumu stared widely as Kiyoomi slowly, softly, put the ring on his ring finger, his digits lingering there just like Atsumu’s did before. Tears rolled down both of their faces now, silently and together. Before the pastor could say anything else, Atsumu lunged at Kiyoomi, desperate to seal the deal with a kiss. Kiyoomi accepted him immediately and their mouths danced their own slow waltz, one they only knew and had already memorized the steps to. Once they finished, whistles and claps thundered across the room, the sounds ricocheting off the walls. Atsumu and Kiyoomi pulled away, their breath warm on each other's faces as their hearts continued the beats of their slow song. With flushed faces and bright eyes, they smiled and smiled, both drinking in the sight of one another.</p><p> </p><p>This was finally their moment. The first chapter of their story together.</p><p>
  
</p><p>They’re 27 years old and dancing in the kitchen to a sweet indie song. They laugh and twirl around the floor, stepped on toes and wrong movements forgotten with each smile and peck. Their joined hands hang in the air, and the morning light reflects perfectly off of the two golden wedding bands adorning their ring fingers. Their wedding was exactly a year ago, and they were dancing to their song again. The music played quietly from Atsumu’s phone on the kitchen counter. Their auras lit up the room with a shining light as Kiyoomi held up his arm and twirled Atsumu around and around, sweet giggles erupting from both their throats as Atsumu’s back slightly crashed into Kiyoomi’s chest. Kiyoomi held Atsumu there and buried his face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of fresh body wash and pine, enjoying the smell of his husband. He took a deep breath then pressed a light kiss to Atsumu’s neck before swaying them both to the calming music, successfully recapturing the magical moments they experienced that special day. They both smiled and swayed together slowly, in sync and perfectly happy. They didn’t pull apart, even when the song ended and a new one started playing. They stayed together, neither of them wanting to let the other go and risk forgotten warmth and an awakening to reality.</p><p> </p><p>They both stayed, relishing in how their paths crossed time and time again to eventually end up here. Shared memories between them repeated in their heads like a movie. First their confession, then their firsts, and finally every little yet significant moment in between. They cherished these memories and nurtured them, before letting them go. Kiyoomi and Atsumu both knew that these memories built them into who they were today, yet they knew the future and what was to come would be more important, more attention grabbing.</p><p>
  
</p><p>It was just them, together. And the memories they never needed.</p><p>
  <em>
    <br/>
    <br/>
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  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was just something I conjured up because I love fluff and we need more Sakuatsu fluff in our lives. I really hope you enjoyed this short, short story!</p><p>BTW, this was loosely based off the song honeymoon (forever) by hellogoodbye, and I imagined that song to be Atsumu and Sakusa's wedding song for their first dance and the song that they were dancing to in the kitchen. I highly recommend you check out the song because it is so beautiful, I literally listened to it the most while writing this. </p><p>The title of this also comes from Inarizaki's banner "We don't need the memories."</p><p>Comments are appreciated!</p><p>Thank you so much for reading!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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